Little Girl Lost
by EosAphrodite
Summary: Possible missing scene from EoCW. May wander into R rating. Cath/Gil


Disclaimers: I don't own any of these characters or the rights to them. Yes, I know there's a shocker. I'm just using them as grown-up Barbie dolls and GI Joe action figures.  
  
AN: Thanks to Mac and Em for beta-ing this for me. I really appreciate the feedback and encouragement. And I'm dedicating this to Liz or she'll kill me. See Liz, no 'old people having sex' in this one. That'll be the next one. An also to my sister; I love you Shel. Hopefully one of these days neither one of us will feel like a little girl lost.  
  
  
  
Catherine Willows walked to her car. She passed the protesters with their signs and jeers, thankful for the fence that separated the demonstrators from her. Protected her was more like it. She felt exposed, vulnerable. It was a feeling she wasn't accustomed to and one she did not like. It seemed to her that everyone wanted something from her in the last few days and she had nothing more to give.  
  
She'd seen the worst humanity had to offer in her career, but never had she watched someone die. Tonight that had all changed. She'd watched a man die. Justice, they'd brought a man to justice. She'd always supported the death penalty, but now she didn't know. One life for another, that was the purpose of the law, but it was different when you saw it first hand.  
  
Suddenly, all Catherine wanted was to get home and her car seemed so far away. Forcing herself to stop from running towards her car, she stepped up her pace, narrowing her thoughts and eyes on it. 'Safety, I've got to get to somewhere safe,' her mind was screaming at her. 'But where is safe?' Lindsey was gone for the evening, so she couldn't go home and immerse herself in her daughter as she usually did. She reached her car and quickly got in, making sure the doors were locked and the windows up. Driving out of the parking lot as fast as she dared, she pointed her car towards home. 'Home, I'll go home and take a hot bath,' she thought, absently chewing on her fingernail.  
  
"A hot bath and something to drink. Maybe a margarita." Catherine drove home, completely oblivious to the fact that she was talking to herself.  
  
Arriving at home she let herself in and systematically checked every window and door to make sure they were all locked up tight. Although she'd always been careful about making sure the house was secure, she noticed that since her attack a few weeks ago, she'd been almost obsessive about double checking the doors and windows.  
  
She walked into the kitchen and poured herself some tequila over ice and added margarita mix; more tequila than mix. Catherine took a big swallow and shuddered when it hit her stomach. Goose bumps broke out on her skin, every nerve in her body coming alive. Taking her drink, she walked over to her stereo and thumbed through her CD collection. She tilted her head to the side and perused the titles, pausing to take long sips of her margarita.  
  
"Come on! Where the hell is it?" She pushed some cd's out of the way and spotted it in the back. "Yes!" she exclaimed as she pulled her Jimmy Buffett CD out of the back. Inserting it into the player she hit random and turned up the volume as 'Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes' came out of the speakers. Kicking her shoes off, she settled herself on her couch, leaning her head back and allowed the music to wash over her. By the time Margaritaville started she'd finished her first drink and pushed herself off the couch, heading toward the kitchen with the intent of making another one.  
  
Taking her newly refilled glass and heading toward the bedroom, Catherine was unbuttoning her shirt with one hand, when the song playing caused her to stop and sing along.  
  
". . . I just bought a waterbed it's filled up for me and you. . .why don't we get drunk and screw. . ." Smiling to herself at the sound of her voice as well as the words, she swayed to the music. The sound of her doorbell startled her and she sloshed some of her drink on the floor. She ambled over to the door and looked through the peephole. Spying Grissom, she opened the door, forgetting the fact that her shirt was unbuttoned.  
  
"Hey Gris. Come on in," Catherine said. Stepping back to let him in.  
  
Gil's eyes roamed over her, taking in her black lace bra and bare stomach. 'Nice,' he thought to himself. 'Very nice.'  
  
"You always open the door like that?" He gestured to her open blouse.  
  
Catherine glanced down, then met his eyes and shrugged. Although not drunk by any stretch, she was feeling no pain at this point. "Only to you babe, only to you," she quipped, enjoying the way his eyes widened in surprise.  
  
She watched Gil walk over and draped his jacket over the chair. "So what brings you by?" She ignored his look and asked brightly, "Want a drink?"  
  
"Not at the moment. I actually thought you'd need some company after. . .today."  
  
"Please Gris, I don't want to talk about this. Not tonight. Can we just drop it? For now at least?" Catherine took another swallow of her drink. She really didn't want to think about the execution. She could still see his eyes as he looked out at the small group gathered whenever she closed her eyes. She shuddered and took another drink.  
  
"Alright, I'll let it go, for now. What do you want to talk about?" He tried to keep his gaze on her face and ignore the fact that he could see the outline of her hardened nipples through the lace of her bra. "Uh, Cath," Gil stammered. "Do you want to change clothes?"  
  
Stepping closer to him, she asked in a throaty voice, "Does it make you uncomfortable Gil?" Catherine marveled at her boldness. Tequila always had this effect on her. Not that she hadn't had thoughts about Gil before, she had. Several times in fact, but never before had she felt so bold.  
  
Clearing his throat, Gil paused a moment. "Uncomfortable is not the word I'd use, Catherine. Distracted maybe, but definitely not uncomfortable." He looked into her eyes and read the desire in them. His eyes moved to her forehead where he could still see the faint mark from her attack two weeks before. Leaning down he placed a soft kiss on the spot. He leaned back and looked at her again. "Catherine, not tonight," he said tenderly, acknowledging the mutual desire. "This is not what you need right now. You've had a rough two weeks and this, while neither of us would exactly regret it; this isn't the way it should happen."  
  
Catherine mouth dropped open in shock. She'd never heard Gil so open with his feelings before. "You're right Gil. I do. . .but not. . .but not this way."  
  
Gil smiled, a lopsided smile. "Good, now please go change clothes before I change my mind." Without thinking twice, he dropped a quick, but gentle kiss on her mouth. Or at least he meant for it to be quick. Gil lost himself in the softness and the rightness of her mouth on his and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. The kiss was full of promise and yearning; they both put what they couldn't say in words into that kiss.  
  
Gil pulled away and with a smile turned her toward her bedroom. "Go. I'll put some coffee on." He smacked her on her rear as he walked past her toward the kitchen.  
  
"Gil?" Catherine grinned at him impishly. "Wanna help?" She nodded her head toward the bedroom.  
  
"Cath!" He drew her name out into three syllables. He watched her walk to her room, knowing he had a silly grin on his face. Catherine just laughed and went to change.  
  
She came out just as he was pouring coffee into two mugs. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back. "Thank you Gil," she said simply and they both knew she wasn't just talking about him coming over to check on her.  
  
He turned and took in her appearance. Her face was freshly scrubbed and her hair was back in a loose ponytail. She was dressed in a pair of red plaid boxer shorts and white tank top sans bra. Raising an eyebrow at her, he took a sip of coffee before asking, "That's supposed to not distract me?"  
  
She smiled at him unrepentantly and stated calmly. "Really Gil, I'm not supposed to make this easy for you." She reached around him for her coffee and pretended not to notice the tensing his muscles as her breasts brushed his arm. "So what movie do you want to watch?"  
  
Trying to think of the most innocent movie he could, anything without romance or sex in it. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he had to sit through that. "Wizard of Oz?"  
  
Catherine shook her head at him. "No. Uh uh, you never let me sing along." She walked over to the low coffee table in front of the couch and picked up the remote, turning on the television and flipping through the channels. "Hey, Bad Boys is on. You know the one with Will Smith. Let's watch that one. It's funny and it's got action."  
  
Gil walked over to her and sat down on the couch. "Fine with me. It is good. I like that Sinclair character in it. She reminds me of you." He waited until Catherine had settled herself against him and then draped his arm over her shoulder.  
  
By the time the movie ended, Catherine was sleeping, her head pillowed on Gil's thigh. He watched her sleep for a while, running his fingers through her soft hair. He knew she'd be more comfortable in her bed, but he wasn't ready to leave her yet. He heard a whimper escape her and she began to stir, tossing slightly in her sleep.  
  
Catherine suddenly sat upright narrowly missing Gil's head. "No!" she cried out in a strangled voice.  
  
Gil could feel her trembling and tried to pull her back to him, but she jumped off the couch in a fluid movement and backed away from him. He could see by the look in her eyes that she wasn't awake, but trapped in the nightmare. He stood up and slowly stepped toward her. Not wanting to startle her he called her name softly, "Catherine." She turned toward him, but he knew she really wasn't seeing him.  
  
"No! Stop! Oh God please stop!" She threw herself at him, beating her fists against his chest and shoulders. "Stop! Make them stop!"  
  
"Catherine!" Gil raised his voice over hers. "Cath, it's a dream. It's only a dream." Gil managed to grab her wrists and in a move that would have made any dance instructor proud, gently, but firmly twisted her around so her back was to him. He pulled her close and whispered into her ear. "It's ok, Cath, it's ok." Gradually he felt her relax against him and he let go of her wrists, keeping his arms around her.  
  
"Gil?" her voice sounded small and forlorn, like a little girl lost.  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
Catherine turned to face him. Taking a deep breath for courage, she whispered, "Don't leave me tonight. Please?"  
  
Knowing how hard it was for her to admit that she needed someone, he just nodded and led her to her bedroom. When Catherine went into the bathroom to brush her teeth, Gil went out and got the overnight bag he always left in his car. It came in handy after some of the more nasty cases he'd been on. He went back into the house and saw Catherine standing in her bedroom doorway, waiting on him.  
  
Smiling nervously at him she said, "I wanted to wait for you." She backed up to let him get to the bathroom and went to sit on her bed. She twirled her hair around her finger and chewed on her bottom lip. 'Why are you so nervous?' she asked herself. 'This is Gil, your best friend. There's absolutely no reason to be nervous.' But she was. They weren't lovers, yet. But after what had happened earlier tonight, they both knew they would be. It was the when that needed to be worked out. 'It'll happen when it happens, don't sweat it, Cath,' she told herself firmly. Grabbing the bottle of lotion on her nightstand she squeezed some into her palm, rubbing it into the skin on her arms and hands. The door to her bathroom opened and she watched Gil walk over to the bed.  
  
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Gil reached a hand out toward her and brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen over her eye. "Want to tell me about your dream?"  
  
Catherine started to shake her head in the negative, but the words came out before she could stop them. "It was the execution. It started out with Mathers and I swear Gil, he looked right at me. It was awful." Her eyes filled with tears and spilled down her cheeks. "But then. . .then it was you. It was you. . .and it was my evidence that put you there," her voice broke and Gil pulled her to him. "I tried to make them stop, I really did, but they wouldn't. It was awful. The whole thing was awful." She pulled away and looked at him. "Remember when I said that if I can get through this I can do this job?" At his nod she continued, "I don't think I can, Gil. I don't think I can get through this." Catherine lay back against the pillows, on her side facing him. "What if I can't?"  
  
"You can Cath. You can get through this and I'll help you." He climbed under the covers and lay facing her. He stroked her face gently, marveling at the softness of her skin. "God, you smell so good." The comment escaped his lips before he could stop them and to be truthful he was a bit embarrassed.  
  
Catherine smiled and leaned forward. "Pumpkin lotion," she muttered against his lips. She kissed him softly, reveling in this new part of their relationship. She sighed as he opened his mouth against hers and molded her body to his. They stayed this way for a few moments exploring each other, but careful not to let it get out of hand. As much as Catherine wanted this, wanted him, she knew that with the execution today what she needed more was his arms around her holding her while she slept. Pulling back a little, Catherine looked into Gil's blue eyes, reading the same thoughts in his.  
  
Gil gave Catherine another quick kiss then rolled to his back, pulling her with him. He smiled slightly when she rested her head on his chest, one arm across his stomach and twined her legs with his. This was right; this was the way it was supposed to be between them. He knew that now and wondered why it had taken them so long to get to this point. He lay there awake for a few moments, listening to her breathing even out in sleep. Gil hoped that she knew she was no longer alone, that he would be there for her. Gil Grissom didn't make commitments easily, but when he did, they were forever. 'Forever, that sounds good,' he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep. 


End file.
